


The Taste of Your Blood in My Mouth

by sharkhette



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, F/M, First Aid, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, M/M, Multi, Not Actually Unrequited Love, OT3, Pining, Threesome - F/M/M, Vampire Hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-17 16:15:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18102008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkhette/pseuds/sharkhette
Summary: In the dream, Cass turned into Eccarius' kiss, the first time he could remember being touched like that in so long, kissed like he was something valuable. Tulip kissed like she had something to prove: there was no love in a kiss like that. He imagined Jesse would be the same, kissing like he fought, smug and sure of himself and completely unrelenting. Cassidy’s traitor heart wanted it anyway, from both of them.





	The Taste of Your Blood in My Mouth

They didn’t let the Grail get him. 

Everything else burned around him—the house, the earth, those poor idiot kids—as Cass hunkered down with nothing between him and the bombs but one flimsy goddamn umbrella, but the Grail didn’t win. Tulip and Jesse came rushing in, guns blazing and engine revving like they had leapt straight from the mouth of hell itself, and Tulip threw a jacket over him before turning to fire off a round from a fucking bazooka—it was bigger than she was, a monster of a thing, and Cass had never been more in love—and in the split second of deafening silence that followed, Jesse said something in that _voice_ and everything stopped.

Everyone went still.

“C’mon,” Tulip muttered, dragging Cass to his feet. “C’mon, let’s go, we gotta go—"

He staggered upright, clinging to his umbrella like a lifeline. The Grail operatives were frozen in place like toy soldiers, their perfect white uniforms charred now with soot and dirt and blood. Their eyes didn’t even move to track him as Tulip dragged him away from the wreckage.

“Get in.” She shoved him in the backseat before climbing behind the wheel. Jesse slammed the passenger door, glancing over his shoulder to confirm that Cass was in. When he nodded, Tulip kicked the car into gear and they went tearing off, churning up chunks of rubble behind them.

“What,” Cass said hoarsely. He twisted around to peer out the back window, but he couldn’t see anything but smoke, billowing up in huge plumes towards the sky.

“Don’t know how long that’ll hold them,” Jesse said.

“Well, we’re not sticking around to find out,” Tulip said, her mouth set in a hard line. “Cass?” She found his eyes in the rearview mirror. “You okay?”

He stared back at her, lost. He’d already said goodbye; he wasn’t supposed to have seen either of them again. He hadn’t been okay in a long time. He thought about drinking himself into a coma in some anonymous bar and shooting up just to feel numb. The hookers, the booze, the nameless drugs and half-hearted highs. He thought about all those goddamn kids who’d just gone up in flames who wouldn’t have died if he hadn’t turned them. He thought about Dennis, and, hell, Eccarius—every person he’d ever known or loved or wanted to keep close, in some way or another, if only for a second—Jesse’s voice, talking to that crowd in the Tombs—and Tulip’s, so full of finality, in the car when she told him what he already knew—

“I’m fine,” he croaked. He pulled Tulip’s jacket over himself and slipped down onto the floor, wedged between the front seats and the back, where the sun couldn’t hit him and he didn’t have to look at either of them. “I’m just fine.”

xXx

He fell asleep sometime during the drive, his brain a mindless haze of tired hurt. It was nothing new, but that didn’t make it easier. Would’ve thought he’d be used to it by now, losing people.

He dreamed of Eccarius.

It was dark in the dream, more sensory than anything, the images just soft smudges like flickers of candlelight. Satin underneath him and Eccarius on top, his lips on Cassidy’s neck, barely brushing the skin. Cass turned into it, the first time he could remember being touched like that in so long, kissed like he was something valuable. Tulip kissed like she had something to prove: there was no love in a kiss like that. He imagined Jesse would be the same, kissing like he fought, smug and sure of himself and completely unrelenting. Cassidy’s traitor heart wanted it anyway, from both of them, but Eccarius—

Eccarius kissed like no one was watching and they had all the time in the world, mouthing soft marks into the thin skin of Cassidy’s throat. And Cass just purred, shifting to pull Eccarius into his arms, burying his hands in that long hair.

The kisses turned biting and Cassidy had someone else’s blood in his mouth. A tearing pain and burst of heat, his own blood spilling out and Eccarius holding him down, gazing at him mournfully with those big dark lying eyes.

“We could have been happy, Cassidy,” he said, his voice pleading. “Didn’t you want that?”

Cassidy woke with a jolt, swallowing a sob.

xXx

They didn’t talk about it. Not Cassidy’s phone call to Tulip when he said he wasn’t coming back, not his time with Jesse in the Tombs, not Tulip’s death. Not how he and Tulip had almost driven off and left Jesse to deal with the Grail and look for God by himself. None of it. Cassidy didn’t know how much Tulip and Jesse had talked about amongst themselves, but Tulip was still treating him like he might crack at any moment and Jesse was barely looking at him at all, and Cass was just so fucking tired of all of it.

But he couldn’t bring himself to get up and walk away. Walk out of one of their hundred anonymous by-the-hour motels, disappear into the night, say his goodbyes in a one-line note they could burn after. Cut himself out of their lives and put himself out of this goddamn purgatory.

It had nearly killed him doing it the first time, and not just because the Grail had got him. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could manage it a second.

He slept a lot, which was boring. The blood cravings were bad again, thanks to Eccarius’ little cult, but he nursed those with booze and whatever drugs he could get his hands on. Things blurred into an endless stream of highways and truck stop diners and motels, but it was nothing like how it used to be. He was sentimental enough to miss it, but even with the three of them steadfastly refusing to talk about anything more in-depth than where to stop next for food, there was no way they could keep it up for long.

Then Tulip decided to rob a bank.

“We need cash,” she said bluntly. They were pulled over on the shoulder, she drumming her fingers across the wheel like she was expecting an argument. “And it’s what we’re good at.”

If she was counting on a fight from Jesse, she didn’t get it. He just shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, that’s true. What do you think, Cass? You gonna rob a bank with us?”

Cass twitched. It was the first time Jesse had addressed him directly. “What, you need like a human shield or something, is that it?”

Tulip frowned, glancing between the two of them. “We don’t need a third, but we could use you. Like back in the old days, with Carlos, remember?” She jostled Jesse like she was aiming for levity.

“Yeah, no, I remember how your Carlos ended up. Think I’ll avoid that, thanks.”

Tulip shrugged. “Suit yourself. Me and Jesse got the two-man job down anyways. You still don’t need us to pick you up any blood?”

He shook his head. Going cold turkey was rough, but he didn’t need the stuff so long as he didn’t get hurt, and all he’d done lately was ride around in the back of a car ignoring the herd of elephants in the room. So long as he had a handful of drugs, he was set.

xXx

Then Jesse got shot.

xXx

The motel room was a dingy, sad little place that had never made it out of the 70s, but it was cheap and the woman at the front desk hadn’t asked questions or called the police, so it would do. Tulip fumbled the door open as Cassidy dragged Jesse over the threshold to dump him unceremoniously onto one of the matching twin beds. Jesse hit the mattress face first and didn’t move.

“Does he need… What’s he need?” Cassidy asked. Jesse had blacked out in the car earlier, a bullet lodged somewhere in the meat of his shoulder, and fuck, Cass couldn’t leave now. Goddamn his bleeding heart.

“He needs to get that bullet out,” Tulip said, locking the door and throwing their bags onto the empty bed, all business. “He’ll be pissed if he wakes up and it’s still in there.”

Cassidy raised his brows, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he fidgeted in place. At least when he’d been dragging Jesse’s arse from one place to another he’d had something to do with his hands. This sort of thing, he always felt fucking useless. “A doctor, then? Or—oh, no, right, you’re going to do it yourself. Course.”

Tulip rolled her eyes and started digging through one of the bags, retrieving a terrifyingly makeshift first aid kit. “Ain’t like this is the first time we’ve done this.”

Cassidy eyed the kit with faint suspicion. He’d used second-hand heroin kits before that looked better maintained. “Course not. It’s not even that bad, is it? Just a bullet. Not like those things kill people.”

“We’ve all got shot before, Cass. It’s no big deal.”

Except that her mouth was set in a harder line than usual, her eyes just a bit bigger than normal, not that she’d ever admit to being scared.

Cass sighed and sat down on the bed beside Jesse. “Right, okay. Tell me how I can help.”

Tulip spread the kit over the empty bed. “Turn him over, for starters. Unless the bullet went clean through?” she added hopefully.

Cassidy frowned and gave Jesse’s shoulder a gentle prod. “He’s not bleeding at the back here.”

“Damn. Okay, turn him over then, lemme see what’s going on.”

Cassidy shoved Jesse over onto his side—the man was dead weight and uncooperative—and balanced him there. The front of his shirt was soaked through, the black material glistening wetly in the dim, orange lights. Cass shuffled out from under him and let Jesse fall flat against the mattress.

“He’s still bleeding.”

“Yeah, but that’s just from you jostling him around. It was almost stopped back in the car. Here.” Tulip reached over and tugged Jesse’s collar off— “Dunno why he still wears this thing,” she muttered— and pulled his shirt open, losing a few buttons on the way. 

Cassidy helpfully propped the man up while Tulip wrestled his shirt off just far enough to expose that one shoulder. It was a mess of blood, though the entry wound itself was relatively small. Cassidy leaned in to peer into it, but the lighting was too bad to actually see the bullet. Tulip prodded at the area, frowning in concentration. Jesse groaned but didn’t wake.

“So?” Cassidy prompted, still holding Jesse by the shoulders. He shifted so the man was mostly in his lap, reassuringly warm despite the blood loss. Cass could hear his heartbeat thrumming away under his skin, faster than it should’ve been, but still going strong. It didn’t sound like the heartbeat of someone about to die. He bit his lip and searched Tulip’s face for any kind of instruction.

“So,” Tulip agreed, pulling a pair of tweezers, a knife, and a needle from the kit. “Let’s get started.”

“Wait, whoa, hang on. Aren’t you supposed to sterilize that kind of stuff first?”

Tulip glanced down at her tools. “You still got some booze?”

Cass snorted. “Course I do.” He shuffled out from under Jesse again and retrieved a half bottle of something—the label was long gone, but it smelled like disinfectant and tasted worse—from his bag and handed it over to her. “Listen, I think you’re supposed to boil them in water or something, no?”

“You see a stove in here, Cassidy? Grab me a towel from the bathroom and a thing of water; I can do this. He’ll be fine.”

He slouched off obediently, and when he returned with a towel in one hand and a cup of water in the other, Tulip was splashing a liberal amount of alcohol over her tools and Jesse at the same time. Cass handed her the towel and the water and then crossed his arms, hovering at the end of the bed in a wreck of nervous energy.

“What if we waited for him to wake up and then he could just fix himself?” he offered. “You know, use the Word on it and just…” He made a vague hand gesture. “Whoosh, done.”

Tulip seemed to consider that as she mopped up the blood from Jesse’s skin with the wet towel. With the blood gone, the wound really didn’t look so bad, though it continued to leak fresh stuff at a regular, oozing pace.

“I dunno if the Word would work on a bullet,” Tulip said eventually, dropping the towel carelessly on the covers beside her. “It’s just a hunk of metal. Not like it’s alive.”

“Huh. Suppose not.”

Tulip angled in with the tweezers and Cassidy twitched back.

“What, you’re squeamish all of a sudden?”

“No. S’just weird.” 

It was—it was weird seeing Jesse so passive when normally he’d be pulling the bullet out himself, and besides which, Cassidy had had enough of seeing his friends laying unmoving in pools of their own blood, thanks. If he and Jesse were even still friends. He wasn’t even sure if he and Tulip still were. It’s not like they’d had a chance to talk, not really, since getting back together. Tulip and Jesse had come storming in, all righteous fury and bullet casings, cutting down those self-important, holier-than-thou Grail bastards like they were nothing and pulling Cass out. Like they owed him something.

Miraculously, they hadn’t been shot then. They’d all got banged up well enough in their escape, but nothing a bit of gauze and rubbing alcohol wouldn’t fix. They’d been lucky, no question, and if they’d just laid low another week or two until they could be sure they’d lost the rest of the Grail operatives they might have kept that luck, but no—Tulip had wanted to commit armed bloody robbery. She’d been right that they’d needed the money, true enough, but Jesus Christ.

Not that Cass was one to talk about bad decision making.

“Any luck?” he asked.

Tulip dug around in the wound for a minute before sitting back with a glare, her fingers slick with blood. “Well, that’s not working.”

Cassidy edged closer. “Little bastard’s lodged in there, eh?”

“Yeah. Gonna cut the fucker out.” 

She flipped the knife into her hand, set her jaw, and went to work. Like watching a car crash, Cassidy kept creeping in closer to get a better view. The smell of blood hung thick and coppery in the air, turning his stomach even as his mouth flooded with saliva. Tulip ignored him, focusing on the gnarl of gore in Jesse’s shoulder where the bullet nestled just beneath the surface. She went in with the knife with no hesitation, cutting just deep enough so she could wedge the tweezers in again and get a grip on the metal. Jesse stayed unconscious through it all, though his brow was furrowed and he made short, pained sounds every so often. Probably best that he stay out of it, at least till Tulip was done. Cass had had his fair share of bullets dug out of him while he was awake, and the novelty wore off quick enough.

There was a horrible scraping noise of metal on metal and then Tulip pulled back, grinning triumphantly with the bullet gripped firmly in the tweezers’ prongs.

“Got it. Here, take this. I’ll clean this out and stitch him up.” She dropped the bullet in Cassidy’s outstretched hand, dropped the tweezers back in the first aid kit, and retrieved the alcohol to give the open wound another rinse.

“What am I supposed to do with this, then?”

“I dunno, throw it out?”

Cass turned it over a few times between his fingers. It was slippery with Jesse’s blood and too small to get a good grip on. Tiny, really. Funny how something so small could kill a man. He slipped the thing into his pocket without really thinking about it, wiping his hands on his jeans before pacing around to the empty bed to rifle through the kit. Half of it was actual medical supplies, likely stolen from some pharmacy or another; the other half was a slapdash collection of odds and ends, some kitchen supplies, and a handful of loose pills, some of which Cass recognized. He lifted one eyebrow as he pawed through it.

“You’ve got enough sedatives and painkillers to take down a bloody army. That’s right impressive, that is.”

“Help yourself,” Tulip said, not looking up from where she was pulling thick surgical thread through the hole in Jesse’s skin. “We lost the bottles a while back; I don’t know what half of them are anymore. We should restock, but.” She shrugged, cut the thread, and knotted it. 

Cassidy ambled over to look over her shoulder, feigning nonchalance. “All done?”

“Good as I can make it. He’ll wake up in a bit.”

“Surprised he hasn’t already, the way you’ve been jabbing at him.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know my bedside manner is excellent, okay.” She tossed the needle and the end of the thread into the kit and stood up with a heaving sigh. “I’m gonna have a shower, get all this blood off me. You wanna order food or something?”

“I don’t think this place does room service, love.”

She rolled her eyes and headed for the bathroom. “So go find a burger joint or something. I’m starving.”

She pulled the bathroom door shut behind her and Cass stood still for a minute, frozen in the middle of the room between the two beds. Jesse’s chest rose and fell in quiet, even breaths, his shirt still on one arm, crumpled under him. Tulip’s stitches were uneven and bumpy with knots, but they got the job done: the wound was closed tight, and, judging by the reek of alcohol, as clean as it was going to get.

Cass could still smell Jesse’s blood in the air. Glancing down, he realized his shirt was stained with it, and that he hadn’t had the chance to wash it off his hands before Tulip had claimed the bathroom. The smell crawled into the back of his throat and lodged there like a bad idea.

“Burgers,” he said aloud. “Right.”

xXx

When he got back, Tulip was out of the shower and Jesse was awake. The two of them were on the bed engaged in some quiet conversation that faltered as soon as he walked in, which was nothing new. He handed Tulip the bag and nodded to Jesse without making eye contact with either of them before dropping down onto the empty bed.

“Alright?” he said, just for the sake of filling the silence.

Tulip rummaged through the bag, distributing burgers and fries between the two of them. “Good. Thanks, Cass.” She flashed him a smile that looked sincere enough. “Told you he’d be okay,” she added, taking an enormous bite.

“Right, course he’s okay. It was barely more than a scratch. You’ve had worse than that before, eh Jess?”

“Yeah, I have.” Jesse rubbed his shoulder; the haphazard stitches had been covered with a thick bandage sometime while Cass had been out, the gauze white and pristine and giving no hint as to what lay beneath. “Still hurts like a bitch, though.”

Cass snorted. “Yeah, I bet.”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Tulip said, continuing to stuff the burger into her mouth. 

At the rate she was going, Cass would have to go get a second round. Maybe he should offer now, just as an excuse to get away. He and Jesse still hadn’t talked, not since the Tombs—fuck, since before that, really. Since before Tulip—

Cassidy cleared his throat awkwardly and they both glanced up. “Listen, you want any more food? I should’ve got more. I can do that, if you want.”

“We’re okay, Cass,” Jesse said. He was eating his burger at a much more sedate pace, apparently unconcerned that Tulip was eyeing his portion like she might steal it if he looked away for long enough.

Cassidy glanced at Tulip, who just shrugged. “Right, well, I might go out for a bit on my own, then,” he ventured.

“For what?” Tulip asked. The burger was gone; she was looking at the fries like she couldn’t decide whether she was hungry or disgusted.

“I don’t know, there must be somebody who knows somebody who’s got some drugs, right? Could go see about finding myself some heroin. Crack. Fuckin…horse tranquilizers, I don’t know.” He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, where he brushed up against that bullet again. “I’ll just get myself some fresh air, stretch my legs for a bit. Or something like that.”

“Hookers and booze?” Jesse guessed.

Cassidy sighed. “Yeah, mate. Hookers and booze.”

xXx

The booze part was accurate, anyway. Cassidy ended up in a run-down little bar on the seedier side of the run-down little town. One of its windows was boarded over from what Cass guessed was a previous night’s brawl, and the floor was sticky and stained with unknown substances. Home sweet home.

He ordered whiskey that tasted like cleaning fluid and downed five shots before he stopped to wonder what the fuck he was doing. Jesse had brought him nothing but trouble since he’d first laid eyes on him in that bar in Annville, and Tulip—perfect, gorgeous, heartbreaking Tulip—

Why was he still hanging around? Why stay in America at all? It wasn’t doing him any favours. If he had any sense he’d rustle up some cash and catch a flight back to Ireland, where he could spend the next decade fucking himself into blissful, drugged oblivion, trying to forget and waiting for his broken heart to heal.

A decade wouldn’t be long enough, but he had centuries to kill. He’d left people before. He always moved on eventually. All he had to do was go.

He got the rest of the bottle to go and drank it on the streets, weaving on and off the sidewalk as his vision blacked around the edges. In his mind, he ran through every person he’d ever loved or left or lost. The earliest ones were blurry, just names left without faces, the pain dulled to an ache. He sang under his breath as he wavered his way through the town, the words barely making it past the lump in his throat. He drowned it in alcohol, blacked out for a minute or an hour, and when his vision cleared he was standing outside the motel room door.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, resting his forehead against it. 

Inside, he could hear Tulip and Jesse’s hushed voices. When was the last time all three of them had stayed up talking? Not arguing or planning how to hunt down God, but just talking, like friends. He and Jesse in the dark of the church, passing some poison back and forth until one of them lost consciousness. He and Tulip…

Not since before New Orleans, probably. Not since they left Annville.

He pushed the door open and slunk inside. They both looked up as he entered and he raised the bottle in a wordless salute.

“You came back.” Jesse sounded surprised.

“Course he did,” Tulip countered, like there was never any question to it. Like that phone call had never happened.

“Yeah, course I did,” Cass said with a sigh, dropping onto the empty bed. “Hey, Jess?”

“Yeah, Cass?”

Cassidy turned the bottle over between his hands, the glass warm and smooth. He’d almost drunk the whole thing. Everything was spinning. “You know, way back, when I said that boring was the worst thing to be?”

“Yeah?”

“Think I was wrong. Think maybe boring’s just what I need. Just for a little bit.” He didn’t look up to see Jesse’s reaction. Instead, he set the bottle on the nightstand and curled up, rolling over to stare out the window away from both of them until the drink hit him like a wave and dragged him under.

xXx

Cassidy dreamed he was crucified again. Stakes driven through his hands, tearing through the delicate tendons and ligaments, the pain so constant it got boring.

“We could have had everything, you and I,” Eccarius murmured, pressed up along Cassidy’s front, hands slipping under his shirt, warm with stolen blood. He pressed tender kisses to Cassidy’s palms, lapping at the wounds, and Cass writhed under him. Eccarius’ hands dipped lower, under Cassidy’s waistband, his mouth hot and wet on Cassidy’s throat—

Cass woke up hard and hating himself, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. He locked himself in the bathroom, the fluorescent lights harsh in the middle of the night, and he avoided his reflection as he downed a handful of pills from the first aid kit. Didn’t even stop to investigate what was what. Dropped back into bed, drumming his fingers against the cold, lifeless sheets, and waited for dawn. Beside him in the other bed, Tulip and Jesse didn’t stir, and the dark pressed in all around.

xXx

“You know you talk in your sleep?” Tulip said the next morning over breakfast.

They were sat in a little diner across from the motel, no one else around. She had a stack of pancakes towering off her plate; Cassidy had coffee and nothing else. Jesse had stayed behind in the motel to shower and change his dressing, promising to catch up to them in a bit.

“Oh yeah?” Cass didn’t know whether to call them nightmares or not. They were awful, but so was the thought of never seeing Eccarius again, despite everything. “I say anything exciting, or?”

“Who’s Eccarius?”

Cass hunched his shoulders in and stared into the dregs of his coffee. “Somebody I met while I was—you know. When we weren’t.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

He blinked. “No offense, love, but since when do you offer to talk about, like, feelings and stuff?”

She shrugged stiffly and sawed into her next pancake. “Dunno. Seems like not talking hasn’t done us any favours, so I figured why not, right?” She popped a triangle of pancake into her mouth. “You don’t have to. Don’t matter to me.”

“I loved him.”

She paused and actually looked up, taking him in as if for the first time. “Huh.” She chewed another piece, more thoughtfully this time. “You know, I’ve overheard my fair share of wet dreams, and last night didn’t sound like a good time to me.”

He snorted. “Yeah, not so much.” He took a swig of coffee and burned his throat on its way down. “Anyway, don’t worry about it. I’m getting my own room next time. Sure you two want some privacy anyway, so I’ll just…”

“Cass.”

“Or—or I’ll just fuck right off entirely, you know, now that I know Jesse’s not gonna die or anything. I wasn’t kidding about needing some time, so I can just—”

“Cassidy.” She grabbed his wrist and he stilled. “I know shit went bad. I don’t know how bad, exactly—I’m still pulling details out of Jesse. But whatever happened, it’s still the three of us. I want you to stay.” She moved from his wrist to his hand, wrapping her fingers around his. Less about comfort and more about holding him in place, but he squeezed back, desperate for any contact at all. “Okay?” she pressed.

“You want me to stay.”

“Yeah. And so does Jesse, even if he’ll never say it.”

“After all that effort you two put in to get rid of me?”

She clenched her fist around his knuckles and he winced. “That was for your own good! You couldn’t stay in goddamn Angelville in one piece—we talked about this. None of us shoulda stayed there,” she added under her breath.

He broke free of her and withdrew, wrapping both hands around his coffee. “Yeah, well, we never should’ve gone there in the first place.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I’ll believe that Jesse wants me around when he tells me so himself. God knows I’d love to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the man dismembered me, alright? There are a few hard feelings between us.”

“Wait, hold up. He dismembered you? When was this?”

“Oh, is that one of the details he hasn’t shared yet, is it?” Cass downed the last of his coffee and shoved up from his seat. “I just think that maybe it’s best we all parted ways, that’s all.”

Tulip followed him, pancakes abandoned. “No, Cass, hold on—”

He was halfway to the diner’s door when she caught him by the arm. “I didn’t mean it,” she said in a rush. “What I said to you, when—when I said I didn’t love you.”

“You _don’t_ love me, I _know_ you don’t, Tulip.”

“Not how you want me to,” she said stubbornly, “but I _do_ love you. And I want you around. Now, c’mon back to the room, talk it out with Jesse—”

“Tulip…”

“And we’ll get this all sorted out,” she said firmly, keeping her grip on his arm as she flagged down the waitress. “No more of this pussyfooting around, avoiding each other like some bullshit schoolkid drama. You think I haven’t noticed how you two’ve barely said two words to each other since we got you back? We’re fixing this.” She handed the waitress a handful of bills and dragged Cassidy out of the diner and back across the empty lot towards the motel, careful to stick to the shadows. “Gonna get things back to how they used to be.”

“It’s a nice thought, really it is, but this is—”

“Shut up.”

He shut up and let her drag him inside. In the room, Jesse was sitting on one bed, finishing buttoning up his shirt. His brows went up as they entered, and Cass finally shook free of Tulip’s grip and backtracked to the wall by the door, scowling.

“Jesse,” Tulip said.

“Yeah?”

“Is it true you dismembered him?”

Jesse glanced at Cass. Cass stared back.

“I thought there were no hard feelings about that,” Jesse said, and damn the man, he actually sounded like he believed that.

Tulip rolled her eyes heavenwards. “Okay. Both of you, sit. We’re hashing this out right now.”

“What’s to hash?” Cassidy asked, folding his arms. “Like he said: what’s a little dismemberment between friends?”

“Did you know he went and fell for some guy after he left Angelville, before the Grail got him?” Tulip asked Jesse, and Cass winced. “No? No! Because none of us have _talked_ since we got outta that hellhole!”

“What?” Jesse looked completely lost. “What guy?”

“Vampire. He had a cult. Turned out to be a bit of a serial killer, you know, like.” Cassidy shrugged.

“Right. Okay. That’s…” Jesse looked helplessly at Tulip, who glared back. “So we haven’t talked,” Jesse finished. “That’s true.” He spread his hands. “Cass? You want to talk about it?”

“Not really, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Okay. You want to talk about the Tombs? You want me to apologize for what I did? How I saved you from them stringing you up on the grounds like they were gonna, and let the sun do the rest?”

Cass curled his lip and hunched in on himself. “Right, no, I should be thanking you, is that it?”

“If you’d’ve left Angelville when I told you to, none of that would’ve happened!” Jesse shot back.

“Yeah, well, if me and Tulip had left New Orleans like we’d wanted, she’d have never got shot in the first place!” Cass snapped.

Jesse paused. Tulip glanced between the two of them, looking surly with her arms crossed.

“She didn’t mention that part,” Cass guessed.

“No,” Jesse said slowly. “She didn’t. Tulip?”

Tulip shrugged, looking defensive and ready for a fight. “Yeah, me and Cass were gonna leave. You were so busy with the Grail you wouldn’t’ve even noticed, not for a while, anyways. But it didn’t happen, so there’s nothing to talk about.”

Jesse’s eyebrows were up near his hairline. “Okay. Anything else anybody wants to bring to light, while we’re doing this?”

Cass could tell them about Eccarius. He could mention how long it had taken his body to knit itself back together after Jesse had taken that machete to him. What it had felt like, sitting shackled in the dark of the Tombs, waiting to be dragged out into the ring to fight another sad, sick bastard to the death while the crowd jeered and Jesse spurred them on. Tell them about what happened to Dennis.

Or he could tell them about the dreams—not the ones with Eccarius, but the ones where he sank his teeth into Tulip’s throat and ripped her apart while Jesse watched, the dreams where sex and bloodlust were two sides of the same coin and he couldn’t tell which was which. Sometimes it was Jesse under him with Tulip watching. Sometimes they were both dead and there was nothing but blood and he didn’t know whether to find it horrifying or erotic or both. Those nights he woke up with bile in his mouth and he couldn’t do anything but listen for their heartbeats across the room or through the walls. 

_Remember that night we shared a bed?_ he wanted to ask. _It was too small and you both hated it but I was warm for the first time in fucking forever._

They both looked at him expectantly.

“I’m going to get drunk,” he said instead.

“It’s not even noon,” Tulip protested.

“When’s that ever stopped me?” He grabbed his nearly-empty bottle from the night before and left without looking back.

xXx

He ended up back at that bar when it reopened that evening, sliding in as soon as it got dark and parking himself across from the bartender, a handful of stolen cash in his pocket.

“Shots of whatever’s strongest, please, and keep them coming.”

The bartender grunted. “Rough day?”

“God, yeah.” 

Cass took the first shot and knocked it back so fast he barely tasted it, which was good, because it was probably fucking moonshine or some such shite. It seemed like the kind of backwater town that would brew its own garbage in a shed or something. Ninety-percent alcohol and ten percent pure distilled misery. He coughed and gestured for another. There was no one else in the bar so early in the evening, though he was laying bets on whether Tulip and Jesse would show up. So far he figured not, but he was going to get well and truly shit-faced just in case.

Three hours later the bar was moderately full of middle-aged working-class types of blokes, all grumbling into their beers and milling around in flannel and stained undershirts. Cass appreciated the background noise from his position face-down on the bar. His forehead was resting on a sticky patch of his own making but he couldn’t be arsed to move. His limbs had reached that uncooperative stage where minor physical discomfort didn’t seem worth bothering over. To the bartender’s credit, he left Cass alone, making no attempts to shuffle him along.

The same couldn’t be said for the bar’s other patrons.

“Ey, pal. Think you’ve had enough.” A heavy hand landed on Cassidy’s shoulder and hauled him upright, and Cass frowned and blinked as the stranger’s face swam into focus. “Me and my buddies are gonna take you outside.”

“No, you’re not. Getcher hands off me.” Cass tried to brush the man aside but everything was very uncoordinated, his words slurring together as he tried to find his feet. Too many things to do at once. He slumped back onto the bar stool and fumbled around for his drink.

The guy grabbed him by the collar and dragged him up, strong-arming him to the door as two of his mates—big, hulking primate-shaped blokes—flanked them.

“Hey, c’mon, fuck off, will you? Just let me get pissed in peace.”

“No, come on. We don’t want no trouble, so you just cooperate and we’ll make things easy on you.”

Cassidy stumbled out into the night, and the men corralled him around to the back lot of the bar, shoving him up against a dumpster. Cass raised his hands. “Look, mate, you really don’t want to be doing this, alright?”

“Fraid that’s not up to you.”

The big guy at the front opened his jacket and pulled an honest-to-god stake out of his inner pocket and Cass let his head drop back against the side of the dumpster.

“Bloody hell, man—do you wankers never learn? That’s not—”

But the bastard interrupted him by driving the thing full force through his sternum, so Cass ended up choking up blood rather than finishing his sentence.

“Didn’t take long to find you,” the guy with the stake said as he drove it in deeper. Cassidy’s mouth filled with blood as he wrapped his hands around the man’s wrists, trying to force him back, but having a thing of wood shoved into your chest fucking hurts, and his knees were going out from under him. “Thought you’d be harder to catch, you know? Shit, I’ve hunted animals cagier than you.”

“Fuck you too,” Cass managed.

The guy stepped back and let Cass fall to the ground, curled up and cradling the stake as he slowly drowned in his own blood—not that it would kill him. Not much could. Certainly not some inbred redneck bastard who’d probably learned all he knew about vampire-hunting from bloody Dracula or some shite, not that Cass thought he could read—

Fuck but that hurt, though.

A hand grabbed his hair and pulled him up to his knees.

“Not letting you off that easy,” the bastard informed him. “We’ve heard stories about what your kind can walk away from, so we’re not taking any chances.”

One of them flicked a knife out and the hand in Cass’ hair forced his head back, baring his throat.

So they might be a step up from those idiots with the holy water. That was just great.

“Ack,” Cass said, through the blood in his mouth. “Wait, hang on—”

“Any last words?”

“Yeah, just this.”

With a snarled grimace, Cass wrenched the stake out of his chest, plunged into the meat of the nearest bloke’s thigh, and then twisted around to sink his teeth into his captor’s forearm. He tore a chunk out and spit it aside, dragging himself to his feet and launching into the next nearest body, looking to tear into soft flesh and hot blood and not much caring whose it was. One of them grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms back, but he had someone’s throat between his teeth and everything tasted like copper, sickeningly strong, the sensation of swallowing that much fresh blood almost enough to overpower the sucking chest wound that rattled with every breath.

The door from the bar clanged open and steps sounded across the pavement. The four of them froze for a second, a gristly tableau of violence in the bare light of the streetlamp.

“Hey, what’s going on out here?”

“Jess?” Cassidy croaked, and then everything devolved into further hell.

Cassidy came to a while later, splayed out on the asphalt and every inch of him hurting. Jesse was on the ground a few feet away, sitting rather than keeled over, and Tulip was standing over the bodies of the three men, holding a crowbar.

“Oh good, you’re awake. You wanna tell me what these three goons were about?”

“Bloody vampire hunters,” Cassidy wheezed, pressing one hand to his chest. That was going to take ages to heal, even with the bites he’d snagged. “Probably the same bastards from the plane, though these ones were a bit smarter. Not that that’s saying much, mind.” He pushed himself up to his elbows and nodded to Jesse. “Alright, mate?”

“Just fine,” Jesse said through gritted teeth, one hand held to his shoulder.

“They got a few lucky hits in,” Tulip conceded. “We should get outta here before the cops show up.”

“Head back to the motel, grab our stuff and get gone,” Jesse agreed.

“You coming?” Tulip asked.

All Cassidy wanted was to crawl into a deep, dark hole and stay there for the next century. He sighed and accepted Tulip’s hand up. “Yeah, I’m coming. Where else am I gonna go.”

xXx

They hit the road and drove until they reached the next motel, even smaller and dingier than the last, but still not the worst place Cass had ever stayed. The neon vacancy sign flickered in the dark, a minute away from blinking out entirely. Cass sprawled across the backseat, holding his jacket against his chest like that would do any good. In the passenger seat, Jesse was quiet, his mouth set in a grim line. After the first few miles Tulip had put some music on, and only let it die out when they pulled into the motel lot.

“I’ll get us a room,” she said, cutting the engine and exiting the car without waiting for a response. “You two, don’t die till I get back.”

Cassidy wasn’t going to die, even if he wanted to. And Jesse—Cass doubted anything could kill the bastard at this point. If God, the Grail, and those angel-clone fellas hadn’t got him, nothing could.

Jesse exited the car, still pressing one hand to his shoulder, and Cass followed at a slower pace, still drunk under all the blood loss.

“Hey, Jess. You alright?”

“Nothing a fresh bandage and a good night’s rest won’t fix,” Jesse said with a forced smile.

Cass sidled closer. “Tore your stitches, eh?” Jesse smelled like blood, but so did everything else. Cass was covered in the stuff, and it wasn’t even all his.

“It’s nothing.”

Tulip poked her head out from the motel office and waved them over, key in hand, and they slouched across the lot to join her. She led them to their room: a tiny, cramped little place barely big enough to fit the two twin beds, but there was a shower and a place to lay down, and that was all Cass wanted. Wash away the blood until all he could smell was the cheap florals of complimentary soap, and then pass out in a haze of pain and alcohol.

“You two sit, lemme get you cleaned up. Cass? You all in one piece?”

Cass shrugged and patted himself down, sinking onto the edge of one mattress while Jesse claimed the other. “S’pose so.”

“You need blood, or did you get enough from those guys back there?”

He tugged at the frayed edges of the hole in his shirt, where it was sticky with gore. He needed more blood to heal, no question about it, but they were miles out from any hospital and he wasn’t up for catching a rat or some shite round the back. It had been hard enough kicking the blood habit in the days following his ordeal with Eccarius; now, trying to heal, it was only going to get worse.

“Leave it for now,” he muttered. “I’ll see to it later.” He waved at Jesse. “Get him sorted first, he’s the one who actually needs to stay in one piece.”

“I told you, it’s not serious,” Jesse protested, even as he shrugged out of his jacket to unbutton his shirt.

The bandage covering his shoulder was soaked through, the blood oozing out from underneath to run down his chest and over his ribs.

“Ah, fuck,” Tulip said. “Why didn’t you say it was this bad?”

“I didn’t think it was.” Jesse frowned and tugged the bandage off; it fell limply to the bedsheets beside him. The stitches were torn, as Cass had guessed, and the wound sluggishly pulsed blood out in bursts of dark, thick red.

Tulip heaved a sigh. “Alright, I’ll get the booze and all that shit. Get you put back together again.” She disappeared back out to the car to grab the rest of their stuff, leaving them alone.

Jesse poked at the skin surrounding the bullet hole. “Didn’t realize the fucker hit me so hard.”

Cassidy edged closer despite himself. “You’re looking a bit pale, mate. If you’re gonna pass out, aim for the pillow there, yeah?”

“I’m not gonna pass out, Cass. Anyway, you’re the one with the gaping hole in your chest. Out of the two of us, I think you got the worse deal.”

“Yeah, but this is nothing I haven’t had before. Come to think of it, you staked me yourself, didn’t you?”

Jesse dropped his gaze and Cass took that as a win, though he didn’t really feel like fighting. It was just picking at old wounds now, and they had enough fresh wounds between them to keep them busy a while. He sighed and shuffled over to sit beside Jesse on the bed, the mattress dipping under him.

“I _am_ sorry,” Jesse said under his breath, not looking up. “I didn’t see any way around it, and I still think it worked, but—I’m sorry.”

Cassidy nodded. “Alright.” He picked up the discarded bandage just to have something to occupy his hands. “Things haven’t been alright for a while now, have they? Not since Annville.”

Jesse snorted. “Not since long before that, Cass. Don’t know if they ever were.”

“I meant between us, the three of us. D’you remember back in the church, when we’d stay up and get drunk, before all this God shite? Before everything went to hell?” It was the booze talking, and probably the blood loss, but he couldn’t shut his mouth. “I miss it, y’know. I miss how things used to be.”

“Things were never all that good, Cass.”

“No, but they weren’t this bloody awful, were they?” He tossed the bandage into the waste bin between the beds and absently raised his hand to his mouth, licking the blood from his fingers. Jesse stared at him. “What?”

“You’re—”

The door slammed open and they both jumped as Tulip strode in, a bottle of something in one hand and the rusty old first aid kit in the other. “Alright, let’s do this, unless I’m interrupting something?”

Jesse was still looking at him strangely. The blood—shite.

“Fuck, sorry,” Cass blurted, standing and backing away abruptly. “Wasn’t thinking. My bad.”

“If you’re hungry—”

“No, no, it’s nothing. Carry on.”

“Cass, you got a hole in your chest the size of Texas,” Tulip said bluntly, crossing the room and dropping her things on the bed beside Jesse. “You ain’t gonna heal without blood.”

“I don’t _want_ blood,” Cass said desperately.

“Looked like you wanted it just now,” Jesse said, and he had that heavy-lidded smug look that Cassidy wanted to hit off his face.

“Alright, fine, I always want it! It’s worse than the fucking drugs, you don’t even know—but I don’t need it. I don’t—” He ran his hands through his hair, never mind that they were still sticky with blood, his and those hunter blokes and now Jesse’s too. He needed a shower. “I don’t need it,” he repeated, “and I don’t like wanting it, either, so can we just—drop it?”

“So what, you’ll just walk around with your chest busted open like some Alien reject forever?” Tulip asked doubtfully. “Don’t be dumb. You need more blood than what you got off those guys, and we can get you blood.”

“Hell, we’ve got blood right here,” Jesse said.

They both looked at him. He shifted to lean back on his elbows, his shirt open and his skin glistening with rivulets of red. Cass swallowed.

“What?” Jesse said. “Another ounce or two won’t kill me. I’m bleeding anyway, so just…” He shrugged, still looking at Cass with those heavy, half-lidded eyes, like he was daring Cass to take him up on it.

Cass might be an idiot, but he knew a bad idea when he saw one.

“Yeah,” Tulip said, “why not? Solve all our problems in one go. You get your blood, Jesse gets cleaned up, and I get to stop watching you have this dumb conversation so I can stitch my dumbass boyfriend back together because he can’t stop getting in fights long enough to heal up his goddamn bullet wound. How bout that?”

“I can stitch myself back together if that’s how you’re gonna be.”

“Cassidy.” Her tone brooked no arguments. “You want the blood? Take it. Save your brooding self-loathing bullshit for when your chest’s all in one piece and you can walk two steps without falling over.”

“Hey now, that’s the drinks more than the staking, I’ll have you know.”

“Do I care?” She pointed to the bed where Jesse waited. “C’mon already.”

“I can make you do it,” Jesse added. He raised his hand to his shoulder, drawing his fingers through the blood. They glistened black in the dim lights and Cass swallowed audibly. Jesse smirked. “So?”

“It’s awkward, alright?” Cassidy muttered, but he sidled closer, his hands jammed in his pockets and his shoulders pulled up around his ears.

“Is it like a sex thing?” Tulip asked, and Cass cringed. “What? I know you mostly just tear apart whatever you’re trying to eat, but in the movies and stuff, seems like there’s always a sex thing to it.” She shrugged. “Just asking.”

“No, it’s not—fuck, Tulip. It’s not sexy.” Except those times with Eccarius, and the dreams that kept haunting him. He shook his head to dispel the thoughts. “There’s no sex thing, alright?”

“Alright,” Jesse said. He seemed unbothered by the prospect either way, still radiating smug amusement.

Cass narrowed his eyes even as he crept nearer. “What d’you mean, alright? Your offer still stand if I said…?”

“That it might get you off?” Jesse finished. He hesitated, wetting his lips before continuing. “Yeah, it would.”

Cassidy’s brows shot up. “Oh yeah? You been harbouring secret inclinations all this while, or is this just some fucked up— Because I told you, mate, you don’t need to apologize, I don’t want—”

“Shut up, Cass.” Jesse’s voice went dark. _”Come here.”_

Cass went, tripping over himself in his haste and only stopping when his knees knocked into Jesse’s where he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Cassidy.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Cassidy put one hand on Jesse’s good shoulder and the other on the bed by his hip, leaning in until he was a breath away from the wound. The torn stitches poked up from Jesse’s skin like spider legs, and his body radiated heat. Cass shut his eyes just for a second and pressed his lips to the unbroken skin just above the wound, and Jesse went stiff under him. He tasted like salt and sweat and copper, and Cassidy moved over him open-mouthed, chasing the rivulets of red down his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, Tulip shifted, arms crossed.

“Huh,” she said. “Y’know, it _is_ kinda sexy.”

Jesse twisted around to stare incredulously. “ _This_ is doing it for you?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, why not? You’re hot, Cass is…” She made a gesture and Cass shut his eyes, pressing closer into Jesse and chasing the last of the stray blood with his tongue. 

He didn’t want to know what Tulip thought he was, and he certainly didn’t want to know what Jesse thought. Lying, junkie vampire. Monster. He pressed his mouth directly over the wound, both hands coming up to grip Jesse’s shoulders and hold him in place, and sucked. Jesse jerked under him with a shout, shoving at him, and Cassidy let go and fell back before Tulip could intervene.

“The hell, Cass?” Jesse demanded, looking half annoyed and half bewildered. 

It was a look Cass was used to inspiring—it sat comfortably on Jesse’s face, and for a second Cassidy was back in the church, sprawled across those pews in the dark blue of the night, prodding at Jesse for any kind of reaction, back before anything mattered.

Cassidy kissed him.

Jesse’s lips were chapped but warm, and parted pre-emptively like he’d been about to speak. Cass kissed close-mouthed, firm but desperate—nothing like how he’d kissed Eccarius or even Tulip, all roving tongues and wet heat. Nothing like how he wanted to kiss.

But Jesse pushed him back—gently—and said softly in that voice: _”Stop.”_

Cassidy stopped. “Fuck.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, up through his hair. “Just add that to the list of things we don’t need to talk about, right?”

Tulip snorted. “Not a sex thing, my ass.”

Jesse raked him over with his gaze, his eyes black and heavy in the dim lights. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, his bullet wound small and neat now that it had been cleaned up. Cassidy bit his lip. They should probably disinfect it again, now that his mouth had been on it.

“You been wanting to do that long?” Jesse asked, and it took a second for Cass to tear his eyes from the blood back to Jesse’s lips.

“It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it,” he admitted.

“And you still want Tulip.”

Cass blew out a sigh. “Yeah. Sorry, mate. I don’t know how to not want her.” He flicked his gaze her way, apologetic and itching to leave.

“When I said I didn’t love you, I meant, I’m not choosing you over Jesse,” she said, and he flinched, nodding. “Quit looking like I just kicked your dog. You want both of us, right?”

Cassidy didn’t know what the fuck he wanted anymore. He shrugged and refused to meet either of their eyes.

Tulip rolled hers. “Okay. Jesse? You wanna give me a hand here?”

Jesse straightened up, subtly favouring his bad side, and dropped his chin in a curt nod. “Yeah, alright. Cass? C’mere.”

“ _Why,_ mate? Can we not just—”

“Cassidy.”

Cass groaned but dragged himself closer.

Jesse grinned. “Come closer. I’m not gonna bite.”

“That’s bloody awful and you know it.”

But he shuffled forward another step, and Jesse grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward the rest of the way. Their knees knocked together and their legs tangled as Cass stumbled into Jesse’s lap, but before he could right himself, Jesse had him by the waist, reeling him in to bring their mouths together. It wasn’t the hesitant, closed off affair Cassidy had offered before: Jesse had no such hesitations, licking past Cassidy’s lips and into his mouth, as sure of himself as Cassidy had guessed he would be. He was searingly hot, his hands firm against Cassidy’s sides, and his mouth moving with steady pressure like he hadn’t told Cass to stop just minutes before. When he did pull back, it was only to catch his breath, and he looked up from under lidded eyes.

“Alright?”

“Alright,” Cass echoed, his wrists resting on Jesse’s shoulders. “What is this? What…” He looked around for Tulip, who was watching them without a trace of discomfort. “Have I missed something?”

“Bout time we all got on the same page,” she said, unfolding her arms and sauntering over to sit down beside Jesse. “You like us?”

“You know I do,” Cass whispered.

“Well, we like you too. And we’re gonna do a better job of showing it from now on, right, Jesse?” She punctuated that with a sharp elbow to his ribs, and he winced as he nodded.

“Yeah, we are, Cass. You were right about it having all gone to shit, and I know…that’s mostly my fault.” He glowered as he said it, but then spread his hands. “So we’re gonna do better. We’ll make it up to you. Alright?”

Cassidy stared at them. “I can’t tell whether you’re offering yourself as a blood bank or to shag and make up, and honestly, mate…”

“Whatever you want,” Jesse offered.

“Whatever,” Cass repeated incredulously, stepping back to point at them both with an unsteady finger. “No, this is some new Grail trick, innit? Like them government clone bastards! Because you would never—you’d never…”

Jesse looked annoyed. “Is it really that hard to believe?”

Cass snorted. “That the Texan preacher who thinks he’s the next messiah would suddenly want to shag some scrawny-arsed, useless drunk of a vampire? Sorry, but I think the blood loss has caught up to you.” He shook his head. “Jess, mate, you’re not even queer. Tell me honestly, did you ever consider this before tonight?”

Jesse shrugged. He could never just admit defeat. “It never came up before. And you never brought it up either. I’d’ve never known you were that way inclined at all if Tulip hadn’t mentioned your vampire fling.”

Cassidy stared. “You ignorant fuck. I’ve been making passes at you since day one! The only reason I was more upfront about my thing for Tulip was that I thought I had more of a chance with her! Before I realized you two were—anyway.” He shook his head. “Fuck but you’re thick, eh?”

Tulip cleared her throat pointedly. “Scuze me, but can we circle back round to the point, please? Am I the only one seeing the potential for a really fucking hot threesome here, or are you guys just not interested?”

Jesse looked at Cass. “How bout it?”

Cassidy wet his lips to stall for time. He’d had threesomes before, and more than that, but never with anyone he’d particularly liked, or even remembered after the fact. Come to think of it, most of his sexual encounters were buried under a blur of intoxication. Even with Tulip he’d been strung out on those painkillers, high enough to think she’d been into it. Only Eccarius stood out, and he wasn’t convinced that was such a good thing at all. It only served to keep the pain sharp.

On the other hand, he doubted he could refuse Tulip or Jesse anything, and especially not something he had so desperately craved for so long. It would hurt all the more when it was done, but then, he’d never been good at refusing temptation.

“Just kiss me again?” he asked quietly. “Like you actually mean it?” Because he loved them both, fiercely and pathetically, and if they couldn’t at least fake it in return then this—whatever it was—was going to kill him.

Tulip stood in one fluid motion, as confident as she ever was, and stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck and kissed him with everything she had. She kissed him like she loved him, more convincingly than that night in the parking lot, more than when she’d pretended to be his girlfriend, right before she shot him. Jesse had been watching then too, but as before, Cassidy shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around her and pretended it was real.

“It is real, you moron,” she mumbled into his mouth, biting at his lips before pulling back. “Do you get that? We love you and we want you here and if you want both of us, we can make this work.”

“I don’t want a fling or a one-night-stand or a—or—whatever else this might be,” he said, seeking out her eyes. She gazed back at him steadily, her lips dark from kissing. “I need this to mean something. Otherwise we need to stop right now, because pining away after you was bad enough, alright? I can’t watch the both of you and know exactly what I’m missing out on.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna kick you out of bed after,” she said with a shrug.

“I’ve never seen you overthink something half this hard,” Jesse added, pushing up from the bed to stand behind Tulip. She shifted to the side so he could reach over her shoulder, wrapping one hand around the rumpled collar of Cassidy’s shirt. “Thought you’d be all over this.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised at that myself. Guess there’s only so much heartbreak a man can take, you know?”

“Ain’t gonna break your heart, Cass,” Jesse said, and it sounded like an oath. “Not this time.”

He leaned in and kissed him with such force that Cassidy’s knees buckled, his hands on Tulip’s shoulders as he pressed himself into Jesse’s kiss. It was rough and demanding this time, and full of promise. Cass shut his eyes and breathed in their combined smell of gunpowder and sweat and blood, theirs and others, and let himself believe.

“Alright,” he muttered, breaking the kiss and steering them both backwards towards the nearest bed. “Alright, let’s do this. Fuck overthinking.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tulip said, already working to divest him of his shirt. 

She shed her jacket easily, letting it drop to the floor and stepping over it even as she tugged Cassidy’s jacket off and his ruined tee shirt up over his head. His chest was still a mess, the wound deep and ugly, speared right through the middle of his magpie tattoo with the blood crusted all around. Tulip ignored it, running her hands over her shoulders as behind her, Jesse abandoned the rest of his shirt, already open from when Cass had—

Fuck. He could still taste Jesse’s blood in his mouth and he wanted more, even if it made him sick.

They hit the bed in a tangle of limbs, Tulip turning at the last second to push Cassidy down first. He fell willingly, his hands roving over her hips and seeking out warm skin, his fingers curling under the waistband of her jeans. Jesse crawled up beside him, radiating intent, and everything became a heady rush of skin and mouths and fingers. Cassidy touched and kissed and bit at whatever and whoever was nearest, barely keeping track of who was who, only knowing that he finally had them both and he might die if they stopped touching him. He kicked off his shoes and let them fall unseen to the floor, then squirmed his way out of his trousers, wordlessly coaxing the others to do the same. He had never been body-shy, never minded showing off his skin, and now all he wanted was to rub against the two of them and feel their heartbeats and the rushing heat of their pulses against his body. He wanted to trace Jesse’s tattoos with his mouth, lick the salt from Tulip’s throat and her ribs—and other, wetter, sweeter places, god, fuck. He wanted to bury himself in them both and let them drag him apart until he forgot Eccarius’ name and the taste of blood, until he forgot everything that wasn’t them.

xXx

They lasted longer than he had expected, all things considered. Tulip came three times, once for each of them and the third on her own, sprawled loose-limbed with her back to the wall as she watched them. Jesse pinned Cass by the wrists and took his time taking him apart, whispering dark, filthy things against his skin, and Cass shuddered through it with his eyes shut, Jesse’s mouth on his throat like Eccarius had done before—but better, because while Jesse might have done all that and worse to Cassidy in the Tombs, this wasn’t ending the way Cass and Eccarius had done. Whatever Jesse did to him, Cass could forgive him. He always did.

Jesse bit down and Cassidy keened, bucking under him and writhing against the sheets as he came with Jesse’s hair clamped under his fingers and his knees locked around Jesse’s waist. He revelled in the sensation of being held down and knowing it wasn’t going to end in pain, for once, and when he opened his eyes, panting and stupidly, helplessly lovestruck, it was to find Jesse gazing down at him with a look of surprising tenderness. It only lasted a second before Jesse rolled off him, sprawling onto his back and indulging in a full-body stretch.

“Well, that was fun,” Tulip said from her place amid the pillows. “Too bad we spent all that time with our heads up our asses: we coulda been doing this months ago.”

“We’re doing it now,” Jesse countered like he hadn’t a care in the world, sitting up and leaning over the edge of the bed to root around for a cigarette. “And for the record, Cass: yeah, that was the first time I done that.” He lit the cigarette and fell back into bed, exhaling smoke to the ceiling.

“I wouldn’t’a guessed it from your performance,” Cassidy offered. His thoughts were still curling lazy and slow in his brain, one step away from sleep. “So have I converted you? You into blokes now, or?”

Jesse shrugged. “Dunno. Might just be into you.”

“Don’t think that’s how it works, but I’m not complaining.” Cassidy shuffled upright to steal the cigarette from Jesse’s mouth, and Jesse let him without more than a token protest. Taking a long drag, Cassidy relished the chemical burn in his lungs before relinquishing it with a frown. “Ah, fuck, you’re bleeding again, mate.”

Tulip frowned and tugged Jesse back into her lap to get a look at him. “Aw, c’mon. You can’t go ten minutes without tearing that thing open again?”

“Hey now, I think we were at it a bit longer than ten minutes, love. In fairness.” Tulip levelled a look at him and Cass backed off. “No, alright, you’re right, though. Jess, mate, you really oughta be taking better care of yourself. Can’t have you passing out on us again.”

“Why not? Least I’m already in bed this time.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Tulip heaved a sigh. “Hang on, lemme patch you up again.” She nudged them both out of the way and padded to the bathroom to find the kit, and they both watched her go with twin expressions of longing.

“God but we’re lucky bastards, aren’t we?” Cass said wistfully.

Jesse made a thoughtful sound and relaxed back against the bed. “I dunno. I’d say she’s pretty lucky herself.”

Cass snorted and swung a leg over Jesse’s thighs, straddling him and leaning in to examine the bullet hole. He’d become pretty well acquainted with it by now, and it leaked blood at a steady but not alarming pace.

“You got about thirty seconds before Tulip comes back,” Jesse said, amusement threading his voice as he watched Cass lean over him, his face inches from the blood.

“I can hear you,” Tulip called from the bathroom. “You need some extra time out there? Want me to take a shower to let the dumbass bleed out some more first?”

“I’m not bleeding out!” Jesse protested.

Tulip came out to lean in the doorway, eyebrow raised and the first aid kit in one hand. “Well? Go on then, if you’re gonna do it.”

Cassidy only hesitated a second before ducking down to lap at the blood again. This time he spread his whole body over Jesse’s, their legs tangled comfortably as he lapped at the wound as gently as he could, his lazy afterglow pushing back against his instinct to sink his teeth in and crush down. It still tasted like blood, was the thing—still sickeningly thick and coppery and stomach-churning—but a good drug didn’t have to taste sweet to get him hooked. He took his time with it, drawing his tongue through the wound even as he soothed Jesse’s flinches with apologetic hands and kisses pressed to his chest. He pulled back when the blood slowed and began to clot, licking his lips and trying not to meet either of their eyes.

Jesse caught him, cupping his jaw and turning him to face him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Cass offered a tentative smile.

“Not like I can’t make more, right?”

“I don’t think that’s the point.”

Tulip rejoined them on the bed, manhandling Cassidy out of the way and Jesse into position, dumping some kind of booze over him as she went.

“Tell you what, Cass,” she said as she settled into Jesse’s lap and got to stitching him up. “Next time either of gets hit, you feel free to grab a taste, alright? Consider this blanket permission.” And she flashed him one of those devilish grins she saved for special occasions, the ones that always made him weak.

“Right. Try not to get shot though, yeah? Like, I appreciate the sentiment, but.”

“Yeah, not sure it’s worth it,” Jesse grunted as Tulip jabbed him with the needle. “You gonna heal up okay, though?”

Cassidy examined his own chest. It wasn’t as bad as it had been before, though still gaping deeper and messier than he’d have liked. He shrugged and dropped down to lay on his side, watching Tulip work. “I’ll be alright. I’ll grab something before we head out tomorrow—whatever’s around.”

“Nother cat or something?” Tulip asked.

He wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, probably. They’re not my favourite, you know? But you can’t turn down that kind of convenience.”

“Does animal blood taste different than human blood?” she asked.

“Not really. Not enough to notice. Some vampires swear it does, but I always thought they were like those pretentious bastards that talk about getting hints of like, ash and oak and shite in their wines, right? It’s all the same, mate. I just don’t like picking fur out of my teeth after.” 

He rested his chin in one hand as he watched Tulip pull the thread through Jesse’s shoulder. She took the same approach to it as she took to cooking: grim determination but not much actual talent, not that he’d ever say such a thing to her face. Jesse’s scowl seemed to say plenty enough on its own, but he didn’t stop her to do it himself, either. When she had tied the last knot she sat back on his thighs looking pleased with herself.

“All done! Now wrap that up and don’t even think about pulling them again, you hear me?”

“I’ll try not to.” Jesse leaned forward and caught her in a kiss, and she smiled into it.

When it broke, she glanced over at Cassidy. “So, who’s up for the next round?”

The both groaned and she laughed, the sound startlingly bright amid the grunge and blood of the room.

xXx

Later, after they had showered and come a few more times, though not necessarily in that order, they lay squeezed into bed together, side by side. Like last time, the bed was too small and the blankets didn’t reach far enough. Unlike last time, Cassidy didn’t want to crawl into a hole and disappear to escape the frigid atmosphere. Tulip was in the middle, Jesse on the far side so as to avoid jostling his wound. Cassidy would have liked to be in the middle, packed in between his two favourite people, so tight none of them could move without disrupting the whole thing, but—it was good. It was warm, and he could stay pressed to Tulip’s side and feel her heartbeat and the rhythm of her breaths. And Jesse was still close enough for Cass to track his breathing too, the steady rise and fall of his chest under the bandages, wrapped extra thick this time, like that could keep him in one piece for more than five minutes.

“Hey Jess, you know I’ve still got that bullet?”

Jesse turned to glance over at him across the pillows, his hair even more of a wreck than usual. “What, this one?” He tapped his bandage and Cassidy nodded. “Why?”

“I told you to throw that out,” Tulip said sleepily from between them. She was clearly done for the night, despite her earlier enthusiasm, though Cassidy was willing to bet she wouldn’t let either of them leave the bed in the morning without another orgasm or two. He had no complaints there.

“Why’d you hang onto that?” Jesse asked.

Cassidy shrugged. “Dunno. Just slipped it in my pocket and forgot about it after. It’s easy, you know? Those things are so small. Wouldn’t think they could do the kind of damage they do.”

“You rather people throw grenades and rocket launchers at us next time?” Tulip asked.

“No, although that would be pretty bloody cool, you can’t deny it.” 

He found Tulip’s hand under the covers and tangled their fingers together, giving hers a squeeze. She squeezed back, resting her head on his shoulder and glancing over at Jesse as Cassidy looked up at the ceiling. It looked blue in the dark, and faintly fuzzy.

“Well,” Jesse said eventually, “you can keep ahold of it if you want. But I’m gonna be okay.”

“Course you are,” Cassidy said automatically. “You’re already fine.” He didn’t know why he’d kept the thing as long as he had; it’s not like he was saving it from doing further damage. It was useless sentimentality, is what it was. He’d toss it in the morning.

But until then, he was going to sprawl loose-limbed in the shared warmth of the too-small bed, and sleep with his face tucked in against Tulip’s throat, a million miles from the carnage of his fantasies. And in the morning the three of them would tumble together again, reeking of sex and sweat and too many fluids, and he would believe them when they said that they loved him and wanted him to stay—and god, he wanted that so much that his poor run-down heart was fit to tear itself in half from wanting. And they would pile into Tulip’s car after to keep chasing down God and outrunning the Grail but it would be _good_ again, the way it used to be, and—

He slung one arm over Tulip’s ribs in order to reach Jesse on the other side and hold them both at once. He breathed in the smell of Tulip’s shampoo, his lips brushing her skin as he found Jesse’s hand in the dark and wrapped his fingers around his wrist, just in order to feel his pulse, and like that, let them lull him towards sleep. Things would be good again. And if they weren’t, the three of them would make them good.

“No more of this fucking around,” he muttered into Tulip’s neck.

“Cass, I love you, but shut up and go to sleep?” she requested.

Jesse huffed out a quiet laugh and Cassidy melted into the warmth of them and obeyed. When he dropped from hazy afterglow to sleep, he dreamed of church pews and the backseats of cars and cheap motel beds, no blood or crucifixions. He nestled deeper under the blankets. He’d dream of Eccarius again, he knew—and part of him wanted to cling to that—but not tonight, and maybe eventually he could replace those dreams altogether. Let Tulip and Jesse take up more headspace and drown out the rest. 

Tulip twisted around and pressed a firm kiss to his forehead. “Sleep,” she whispered.

He slept.


End file.
